Sermons by Bishop Paul V. Marshall
Sometimes the Church Gets It Right
Sermon by Bishop Paul V. Marshall
At the ordination of deacons Cathedral Church of the Nativity, Bethlehem
April 6, 2002Last month some of us bishops got to spend quality time with Archbishop Desmond Tutu, one of the most forthright and at the same time one of the most humble people I've ever met. He began one of his talks by telling the story of a little girl who came upon her father, the rector, kneeling down in his study one Saturday night, praying intensely. She asked him what was going on. He told her that he always prayed that God would let him preach a good and effective sermon in the morning. With that wonderful honesty of children, his daughter asked, "So why doesn't he?"
Well, many prayers, many years, much work, and perhaps even some worries and tears come to this Cathedral today. We come before God to offer four of our own for the office and work of deacons in Christ's Church. It has not been an easy journey for any of them, or for their families, and for some there are still papers to write and tests to take and goodbyes to say. All that said, still we are here, basking in the light of Jesus' resurrection, the shock of the Easter Vigil still rattling our spines a little bit. Given that Easter awareness, this could be the start of something big. Our expectation is that when we ask God to make you faithful and effective deacons, we know that he does it, and why he does it.
The lesson from Acts throws some unwelcome cold water on us at first. Jesus has died and risen. The resurrection community sets about its work. We are only in chapter six of Acts, about five minutes after Pentecost (less if you are a fast reader) and what do we see? A church torn by arguments based on differences of race, class, and economics. That's right, almost from Day One.
But sometimes the Church does get it right. Instead of responding with resolutions and regulations, it does what God did for a world with the same problems: it sends servants. You know from your studies that early writers describing their Christian assembly do not say that the bishop is like Christ, they do not say that the presbyters are like Christ. The symbol of Christ for them as the church gathers to pray is the servant, the deacon.
By what you do as deacons, but just as much by your being deacons, you are the living reminder (and something of a nudge and nag, I hope), the living reminder to each of us that our baptism commits every one of us to follow a person who did not think equality with God was a thing to be grasped, but humbled himself and took the form of a slave. You are to remind us that corporately we are to be Christ reconciling the world to God.
Slavery is a terrible thing when it is imposed, an evil thing, and as a culture we are far, far away from paying the bill for the evil it brought to the Americas. Our brothers and sisters in the Sudanese diocese of Kajo-Keji to this day see their sons and daughters kidnapped and sold like lumber in the Muslim north of their country.
The loss of the will that is the essence of slavery, of diaconia, is a beautiful thing when it is purposefully embraced for the sake of others. Saint Paul's words are words we might say in this first week of Easter: he speaks of the "light of the gospel and the glory of Christ," then says, "we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus' sake."
That's right, deacon, priest, and bishop all give up certain rights we thought were inalienable, we choose to give up certain aspects of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness because we serve Christ and serve Christ's people.
This is an ideal time to become clergy, because there is no way to confuse getting ordained with upward mobility. No longer will a collar get you a free ride on the bus, a seat on the train, or much respect in the circles of the powerful.
Despite those disabilities, we call ordained ministry a profession, and a learned profession. "Professional" is a word that has lost most of its meaning. In its original and best sense it is not about a job, but about a life, with special knowledge and special responsibilities, submitting to corporately held standards and contributing a specific thing to the life of the community.
Professionals do not work just 40 hours a week, professionals do not have two days off each week, professionals must continually stay current in the literature of the field, and professionals always work to keep their skills honed.
So the chief differences between you and the neurosurgeon around the corner is that you don't get to send a bill, and not everybody thinks you are doing the world any good.
In our culture, not being able to send a bill and not enjoying high status are the marks of a failure or a fool. The first century knew that, too, and St. Paul writes of being a fool out his devotion to Christ, who was the preeminent servant and biggest "fool" the Golgotha crucifixion squad had ever seen.
Most of us can deal with not earning our potential. It's the being thought of as a jerk that hurts, and it's getting worse. Right now organized religion is under attack not just for the existence of sexual predators among its clergy, but for the worse sin of obstructing justice. Everyone who wears a collar these days comes under a certain amount of suspicion. And on top of that, there will be those who think you only work one day a week-worse, still, you will find that you have some colleagues who burned out years ago and may not be working much more than that.
To practice the profession of ordained ministry with any kind of seriousness, then, is to swim upstream.
Why bother? Some of us never get more of an answer than the awareness that God has called us, and his grace is sufficient for us. Some of us have moments of intense revelation when we see our ministry as the key to our identity, a part of our salvation. Others thrive on challenge and find ordained ministry the way to effect change - or to prevent it, whichever their passion is.
What we have in common, though, is the knowledge that the Messiah came as schmendrick, as fool, and as servant. It cost him everything, but his passage through death to life gives every Christian life meaning and purpose. To have the privilege of spending one's life sharing that reality with people and struggling with them to work it out in their lives, and to hear them talk about it, is an inestimable gift.
In terms of human language patterns, God is best described as working through paradox, irony, and apparent chaos. Why should we be any different? There is a certain level of fun in what we do, although that mostly appears in hindsight. A willingness to be the calm, engaging, and connected, person when all around us is boiling over is very useful, but also fulfilling. That is because by being that kind of presence, we can make life possible for others.
We are pretty well powerless to change other people - thank God - in fact, being focused on the need for other people to change is very unhealthy for all involved. We do not change other people, but we do have the power, as Saint Paul says, to show them "a better way."
You probably know that in the armed services there is a slogan that is applied in certain circumstances, and it is, "Look Busy." If you are to serve the church well, I want to suggest "Look Calm and Be Prayerful." Americans think they are being productive when they generate the most heat and motion, churning accounts and churning their blood pressure.
To the extent that we commit ourselves to being people who pray the office, who schedule the time for spiritual reading and sweaty intercession, those around us will have the opportunity and invitation to change. May I suggest a ministry that is like a good martini - six parts prayer to one part prophecy? Look calm, be prayerful.
Dan, Carol, Iris and Earl: Today you are asked to empty yourselves, have the strength of identity that lets you take the form of servants. Know that you are parting from much of what your friends consider success, but that is because you know the delightful irony that you are doing it for them, and can smile to yourself about it, because God gets the joke.
Home Site Map Please direct any questions or comments to the webmaster@diobeth.org
